大象传媒

This story has been submitted to the People's War website by Pam Riding of Kirklees Libraries on behalf of Derrick Sharp and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

Memories of a Wartime Schoolboy

Robb Wilton, one of radio鈥檚 top comedians of the time always used to start his programme with the words 鈥淭he day war broke out.....鈥�. Well, I can remember very clearly what I was doing and where I was on that particular Sunday in September 1939.

I had been to Sunday School (as was obligatory in those days) and afterwards went to visit my Aunt and Uncle in Heckmondwike. I was just in time to listen to the broadcast by the then Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, telling us that 鈥�..... we are now at war with Germany鈥�. I cried. As an eleven year old I had often listened to the stories my father told of his time in the trenches during the First World War 鈥� and horrific they were. I knew that there would be much suffering and death, both on the home front and those fighting the war, and to hear those words being spoken again was a frightening experience. But I must not dwell on the aspects of war, but concentrate on what was happening on the home front.

Shortly after re-starting school we were issued with gas masks which were contained in a small cardboard box with a strap to sling over your shoulder. They were horrible things, but very necessary as we had been told that the enemy might use poison gas as the war progressed. We had to carry these to and from school every day, and during schooltime had to wear them for short periods to get used to them. Breathing was difficult and they made you feel quite claustrophobic.Some members of class used to scream or cry whenever the teacher said it was time for another rehearsal.

Then there was Air Raid Shelter drill. Workmen had dug out a large embankment at the side of the school, lined it out and fitted seats in. It was very gloomy and it smelt. Every day we used to put on our gas masks and file into the large shelter for practice drill. It was very monotonous, but very necessary. We were always fearful of the air raid sirens going, which would mean another trip to the shelter. Schoolwork was very disrupted as a result of these interruptions and you hardly got started into a lesson before the bell rang for you to change to another class for a different lesson.

During the early part of the war 1940-42 we used to go to bed quite early because we knew for certain that around midnight the air raid sirens would sound and you would be woken up and told to get dressed and go downstairs and shelter in the strongest part of the house 鈥� usually the cellar or scullery. I would listen to the the enemy bombers flying over and you were always conscious that there might be a bomb or two on its way down to you. Most nights the bombers flew straight over, usually on their way to bomb the city of Hull, which suffered terrible damage to the docks and surrounding area.

But one time on a very dark November night in 1941 bombs did drop in Healey, Batley where I lived. My father worked on the night shift making barbed wire for the war effort, so there was only my mother and younger brother in the house with me. About 11.30p.m we heard a screaming sound followed by a huge bang which rattled our windows and door. As soon as we heard the screaming of the bombs being rained down on us, we all dived for cover under the square table, trembling with fear as we did so. I could hear other explosions nearby and I felt that we were in for a very long night of terror.

It seemed a long time before we heard the sound of the 鈥榓ll clear鈥� sirens and it was a very tired and relieved boy who went to bed in the early hours. We still had to get up for school the same time as usual. Night after night the sirens would sound and we followed the same routine of early to be and being awakened by the sirens almost as soon as we had drifted off to sleep.

After the bombs had dropped it was the usual custom to find out where they had landed, and to hear if anyone had been injured or perhaps killed. The following Sunday afternoon, I went with my family to a couple of street away from where the loudest explosion had been heard. This particular bomb had landed in a field, just missing a row of houses including ours! It left a huge crater and we counted ourselves very lucky not to have been blasted away by the bomb. We later heard this particular bomb aimer had been trying to drop his bombs on a very large mill close by which was making uniforms for the armed forces.

Bombs also hit Batley Railway Station and Permanent Way. Jessop Park had bomb damage as had St Andrew鈥檚 Church, Purlwell, where slates had been blown off the roof and windows broken.

Another noise, which interrupted sleep, was from the anti-aircraft guns, which were placed on a hill top overlooking Dewsbury. It was said that the officer in charge of the Battery had lost his whole family in the London bombing and he was most keen to get some revenge. The guns were blazing away night after night for weeks. It was also said that Batley was saved by a pea-souper fog, which descended that Thursday night, thus making it difficult for the enemy to find their targets.

For we lads, one of the pleasures we got was by collecting pieces of shrapnel from the bombs and shells which fell around us. There used to be a good bit of swapping and trading going on if you found someone who had a larger piece than you! Because there was nothing much to do on a Sunday- no cinemas or television- you could see crowds of people walking about looking at bomb damage. I remember a piece of shrapnel hitting the tower of Staincliffe Parish Church, just missing the west windows and leaving a mark on the stonework which is there to this day.

In the early part of the war food shortages began to take their toll. Many ships laden with food for Britain were sunk by German U-boats and as a result the food shops rapidly emptied.鈥橠ig for Victory鈥� was the government slogan which appeared on posters all over the town, and we schoolboys had to do our share.

A large plot of land opposite the school had been set aside for us, and every class had to take turns in first digging the soil and removing large stones etc in order to make the soil more fertile for growing things. We then planted potatoes, followed by every vegetable you could think of. It was nice when summertime came and you could be outdoors in the garden again, raking and generally tending to all the produce we had tried to grow. Schoolwork, once again, was disrupted, but we at the school felt we were doing our bit for the war effort even if it meant missing maths! Every schoolboy was able to take home some of the vegetables we had grown and this helped the food situation at home enormously.

Fruit too, was in very short supply. Lemons and oranges vanished altogether and you didn鈥檛 see a banana until hostilities ceased in 1945. We almost forgot what they looked like. Many thousands of tons of shipping were lost at sea and the shipyards had to try and build ships faster than the U-boats could sink them, in order for Britain to survive.

During the Battle of Britain in 1940/41 a lot of our fighter aircraft were lost in combat and the government launched what became known as the 鈥楽pitfire Fund鈥�. Every household was asked to contribute any aluminium pans etc which could be used for melting down and passing to the aircraft manufacturers for use in making fighter aircraft, which the 鈥楽pitfire鈥� was. My pals and I used to knock on the door of all the houses in the neighbourhood asking if they had anything to contribute, and when we had collected a sufficient quantity we used to load our wheelbarrows (made from a soapbox with a pair of old pram wheels and two wooden struts for handles) and take them down to Batley market place where there was a huge pile of everything aluminium. I never did find out what happened to it all, but again we felt we were helping the war effort.

We also used to collect old newspapers by the hundredweight- they were very useful for pulping and re-use as timber was also in very short supply. Many time I walked with my handcart down to the offices of the Batley News- a good mile and a half from home and then walked home again. You walked everywhere in those days!

There was a large brick built communal air raid shelter on a piece of land at Staincliffe. Soil was heaped over it to disguise it and inside were rows of slatted seating. The shelter was built in zig-zag fashion to minimise any casualties there might be in case of an air raid. Naturally, there was no light in the shelter and if people wanted to make use of it they had to take their torch or use a candle for light.

One of our pastimes was to go up to the shelter and 鈥榙are鈥� any one lad to walk through it alone and without light. Once you entered and got past the first yard or two the light faded and you were completely in the dark. The path through it twisted and turned, first to the left and then to the right and because the seating was contained on one side only, once your hand had come to the end of a row of seats you were left wondering and feeling for the next lot of seating, which you did not know would be on your left or right. It certainly was quite scary and it seemed a long time before you reached the other end and out into daylight again. You never knew also whether another lad was already inside ready to scare you as you made your way through!That would frighten the living daylights out of you!!

Collecting cigarette cards was very popular; swapping a duplicate card with someone who had one which you needed to make up a full set of 50. British and foreign stamp collecting was also a very good pastime as was playing marbles,鈥檚quat can鈥� and 鈥榯ig鈥�.
During the war you had to make your own amusement 鈥楤unkers鈥� (made from two sets of pram wheels bought from a local scrap dealer, between which was a long piece of wood for you to sit on). The front wheels were bolted through the front piece of wood and a long string was fastened to each side of the front axle to enable you to steer it. We had some very good fun with those. We who were born before 1940 were without frozen foods, plastic, ball point pens, credit cards, electric blankets and dishwashers. A 鈥楤ig Mac鈥� was an oversized raincoat. We were before day care centres and disposable nappies. We never heard of FM radio, tape decks, artificial hearts and word processors. Washing machines, Pizzas, McDonalds and instant coffee were unheard of as were dual cars.鈥橲heltered accommodation鈥� was where you waited for a bus. A鈥檆hip鈥� was a piece of wood or a fried potato. 鈥楬ardware鈥� meant nuts and bolts and 鈥榮oftware鈥� wasn鈥檛 a word. 鈥楻ock music鈥� was a mother鈥檚 lullaby and 鈥榓ids鈥� just meant beauty treatment or help for someone in trouble. When one thinks of how the world has changed and the adjustments we have had to make, no wonder are so confused and there is a generation gap today. Mobile phones were unheard of and computers..... can you make any wonder we had to make our own amusement?

Blackout. Blackout meant just that. All windows had to be covered in very dark material. No bare lights had to be seen in any of the windows or you were in trouble. Wardens were appointed to walk round the district looking for the slightest chink of light. If one was seen you would hear a knock on the door and the familiar sound of 鈥淥i, put that light out鈥�. If you persisted in showing lights your name could be taken and you could be in trouble at the Magistrates Court. There were no street lights either. Total darkness it had to be. Even the torch that you carried round with you had to be shaded so that it only shone a feeble light to enable you to see where you were going.

Buses and trams had a canvas-like material pasted to the windows in case of bomb blast so they would not shatter and spew flying glass all over you if you were unlucky enough to be caught up in an air raid whilst travelling. I recall many of the single decker buses were also camouflaged, particularly if they were en route to a city.

For we schoolboys, a plus point was that we got a very extended summer holiday- sometimes as long as ten weeks. This was alright up to a point, but it did mean that your education suffered very badly too. Double Summertime was also a nuisance. The government would allow the ordinary forward hour followed a week or two later by another forward hour, meaning that you were two hours in front of Greenwich Mean Time. It was daylight until 11.30 pm. I often used to watch the setting rays on the clock of Staincliffe Church, then it would be sirens again, another hour or two of missed sleep then up again in the morning for school.

The first winter of the war (1940) was very severe. Snow and frost continued for many weeks. Huge snow drifts, some of them five or six weeks high were in many places. There was a long wall on the left-hand side of the causeway leading up to Healey School and workmen from the Council tunnelled a way through some of the deepest drifts. It felt like you were in Switzerland as you walked through the snow tunnels. Transport was very badly disrupted and any deliveries that were made to the local shops was by shire horse with carts piled high with all sorts of commodities. Coal, in particular, was always delivered by horse and cart.

At the age of 14 I left school and went to work for my uncle who was manager of a local grocery store. Being there I gained first hand experience of what RATIONING really meant. Every person in the country had a ration book and you had to register with a store of your choice 鈥� no supermarkets in those days- in order to get your weekly rations. Meat, eggs, fats, cheese, bacon, sugar and tea were all rationed, and there were 鈥榩ersonal points鈥� for your sweet ration.. In the early part of the war (1941) the rations per person were 鈥� 2oz of butter, 8oz margarine and cooking fats, 1oz of cheese, 录 bacon, 20z tea, 20z sugar, 20z jam per week. You also had a book of clothing coupons which had to be used very sparingly-鈥榤ake do and mend鈥� was another government slogan of the war years. Each person was given an allowance of 66 coupons per year. If you bought a three piece suit that would set you back 26 of your coupons. A woman鈥檚 woollen dress needed 11 coupons and even a tie cost 1 coupon.

Our milk was delivered to the door by pony and trap. The milk lady had two large churns and two metal jugs which she dipped into the churns and poured out either a gill or a pint of milk for your household. 2oz of sweet were allowed per person and if you managed to save up your ration for 2 weeks you could purchase a whole quarter pound of the sweets of your choice-if they were available.
The popular brands of cigarettes of the wartime years largely were not available-鈥楥apstans鈥�,鈥橤old Flake鈥�,鈥機raven A鈥�, 鈥楶layers鈥� and 鈥榃oodbines鈥� practically disappeared from the shelves and in their place there were 鈥楶ashas鈥�-Turkish cigarettes, which people turned their noses up at- but still smoked. If you went on the top deck of a bus the air was thick with smoke from these vile things-talk about passive smoking- you could hardly see where you were going.

Hygiene, too, was not exactly the order of the day. There were no refrigerators to put the bacon or ham in when it was delivered- they were simply put up by hooks onto a long rail strung across the shop. In summertime flies were abundant and bluebottles regularly laid their eggs directly onto the hanging rolls of bacon and ham. I remember on one occasion taking a ham off the hook and putting it on to the marble slab ready for slicing up in the bacon machine. This particular ham had been left on the slab for a few days, and one day I picked it up ready to go on the machine, only to find the face of it absolutely crawling with maggots. The manager simply brushed them off, stamped on them and started to cut a slice or two off for a customer who, the following week, remarked that it was the best tasting ham she had eaten for a long time! Little did she know...!

There was a meagre supply of meat at the butchers鈥� shops and the ration per person was by price. The shop windows were bare of everything except for a few artificial decorations, looking forlorn in a corner of a window. So far as the grocery shop was concerned tinned fruit was almost non- existent. Instead, we had to weigh everything from sacks- dried prunes, raisins, currants, apricots, figs and dates. Sugar came in cwt sacks, which you had to weigh out in quarter pound and half pound bags. Flour, too, came in very large sacks which also required weighing out in 录, 陆 and 1 stone bags. Potatoes were the same 鈥� all loose and were weighed in the same quantities. To eke out our sweet ration, we were able to buy, at some greengrocers, a halfpenny or penny carrot to eat. Tins of salmon were very, very scarce and in its place was a tin of fish called 鈥楽noek鈥�-caught in the waters off the South African coast. It tasted awful! Eggs were a scarcity and were mostly substituted by tins of dried egg, which most people found acceptable. Sugar was the last product to be de-rationed- 8 years after the war finished in 1953.

Reverting to the meat ration, every night in the 鈥楨vening Post鈥� there appeared a topical cartoon- mostly humorous to cheer us up, and these I used to methodically cut out and paste into a scrapbook-which I still have to this day. One or two of those cartoons remain very vividly in my memory, one depicted a husband sat at the dinner table, knife and fork in hand and asking his wife 鈥淲here is the meat luv?鈥� 鈥淚t鈥檚 under one of your Brussel sprouts鈥� came the reply!

Queuing. People queued for anything and everything. Such was the scarcities of things we take for granted these days- (all types of confectionery, bread, biscuits, fresh salmon and other fish), that, as soon as someone heard of a delivery of a certain commodity at a particular shop, word would go round like the bush telegraph and a queue would form before you knew where you were! Confectionery shops seemed to bear the brunt of queuing- particularly if there had been a delivery of cream cakes, custard tarts etc, and I personally witnessed many times queues stretching for a quarter of a mile or more. Not everyone was successful in purchasing something- the shop exhausted its supply long before the queue had shortened. Butchers, too, had their share of queuing, particularly if word got round that sausages, liver and corned beef were available- which brings me to another cartoon I remember very well. This showed a large queue outside a theatre at which Offenbach鈥檚 鈥淭ales of Hoffmann鈥� was being given. A lady with her shopping basket was passing the queue and enquired what this queue was for. 鈥淭ales of Hoffmann鈥� came the answer.鈥漁h, I鈥檒l join the queue鈥檆ause I鈥檝e never tasted 鈥淭ales of Hoffmann鈥� she said. Yes, queues certainly were a feature of the war.

During the daytime, from time to time, convoys of lorries full of troops would pass from the Dewsbury area on to Heckmondwike and thence to unknown destinations. We used to wave to them and wish them well.

In 1942, I joined the Air Training Corps and among other things I was taught the Morse Code and Signalling with lamps. Twice a year the squadron was allowed to have a week鈥檚 camp at an airfield 鈥榮omewhere in Yorkshire鈥�-鈥渃areless talk cost lives鈥�-another government slogan- so you were under strict orders not to divulge the whereabouts of your visits. We slept under canvas. The highlights of the weeks were that I was able to be taken on flights in some of the RAF bombers; Wellingtons, Halifaxes and Lancasters, for flights around Yorkshire.

On one occasion, I was invited to pass down the aircraft towards the rear gunner鈥檚 place- which looked like a large perspex goldfish bowl with just a large gun and ammunition there. The view you had was magnificent but I couldn鈥檛 help feeling how vulnerable the aircrew was when on a flying mission. You then weren鈥檛 watching the view so much as keeping your eyes peeled for enemy aircraft. I wondered also how men only a year or two older than myself could fly such huge aircraft.

I shall always remember at one airfield some of the Halifax bombers returning from a bombing mission and most of the aircraft had huge holes in the fuselage from anti-aircraft fire, and also bullet holes riddling the bomber from front to rear. I wondered how the pilot managed to get the aircraft and crew safely home. One bomber was absolutely riddled with holes, and the rear turret was shot to pieces and, so, presumably, was the rear gunner. That scene certainly did bring home to me the total reality of war.

Towards the end of the war, Hitler made one last attempt to try and defeat us by producing the V1 and V2 rockets which were filled with high explosives. They were launched from launch pads in Germany and as soon as their fuel supply was exhausted, the engine would cut out and the rocket would drop to earth silently. They caused tremendous damage and thousands of lives were lost, particularly in London.

One night, standing at the gate of our house with my father and the air raid warden, in total darkness we heard a sound of something which we had never heard before. We guessed that it might be a 鈥榝lying bomb鈥� and you held your breath as it approached and you listened very intently to the sound of the engine and waited with baited breath to hear if it would pass over you safely or that the motor would suddenly cut out (when the fuel supply was used up) and it would drop on you.

Mercifully, it passed over and I heard later that it came down in pastureland somewhere on Hartshead Moor, thankfully missing the local towns. I only heard two of them, but that was enough for me. The rockets made your stomach churn as they approached and then relief as they passed over.

These, then, are a few of my memories of the war years and when 1945 came there was great rejoicing in the land. I still had to do my National Service 鈥� but that鈥檚 another story......

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